Through the Purple Smoke
by SongSiren
Summary: Leon's hurt on a mission. He retires from Ax and the pain leads him in a desperate search to find release. He finds her, a woman, in a night filled with smoke. But what will he do when he finds that both the woman and the reliving smoke are illegal?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, this story is centered on Leon, or as people who have read my other story know him, Leon Sr. For those of you who haven't, you'll understand why at the end of the story. Quick warning for those who are easily offended or cry easily, this story might not be for you, but I'll tone it down** **as much as possible.**

**Warning: I am NOT a romance writer. I'm a blood/gore/action/drama/tragedy writer. Never mind that most of my stories are labeled romance, I just don't do the lovey dovey thing. If that's what you are looking for, this story is not for you! **

The sun seared the undersized island, which could not have been more than three miles long in either direction, spitefully. Waves of heat quivered on the horizon. Not one cloud marred the perfectly blue sky. The teal water's tide lapped the golden sand invitingly. Green jungle covered the island in a lush green carpet.

The droning of a plane interrupted the peaceful island. Inside the cockpit sat two men clad in priest's habits, despite the heat of the summer day. One, a young man with bronze hair stared blankly ahead as his dark-haired companion, also a young man, grumbled under his breath and flew the plane.

"Damn it! Of all the missions, Catherine had to pick this one. This one! In the most god-forsaken part of the world with temperatures skyrocketing into the hundreds traveling in this junker that would probably be better off as scrap-metal! God damn it!" The dark-haired man ranted.

"Father Leon, it is suggested that you calm yourself to keep from interfering with the mission. Also, do not take the Lord's name in vain."

"Shut it, Tres."

"Positive."

The plane landed on the beach, sending a flock of white gulls careening into the sky with raucous indignation. Father Leon stepped out of the old plane with care a moment later, sending the small crabs that had been brave enough to venture close to the machine scuttling back into their hidey-holes. The young man glared at the cawing cloud of birds venomously.

"Well there goes our element of surprise, eh, Tres?" He commented almost offhandedly, as if he were talking about the weather.

"Biosweep: Five humans approaching at sixty miles per hour. Probability that they are heavily armed at eighty-nine percent," Tres said mechanically.

"Wonderful. Years of upgrades and all you can tell me is something I can guess. Love that android mind of yours, Tres."

The android was already walking away, towards the forest. "Instigating guerrilla warfare."

"Androids," Leon muttered, rolling his eyes and running after his friend.



The men were relatively easy to take out. Traveling at a gallop on brown hybrid horses, all Leon and Tres had to do was shoot them each in any place with small darts that worked instantly. The men fell off the horses and the animals ran into the forest.

Running swiftly, Leon caught two and rode one back, reliving it off the nonessential heavy gun in favor for the two light ones he kept in his coat next to the spinning razors that he specialized in. He trotted casually to his friend, the android and offered the reins with a roughish grin.

They rode back the way the men had come, though keeping closer to the forest. In the distance, a huge water mill sat on the coast, amid tan rocks that had not been visible from the sky. As the half mile turned to a quarter mile, and the quarter mile into less than fifteen yards, Leon and Tres slowly melted into the shadow of the forest, eyes always on the horizons, but ears covering their surroundings.

Soon enough, they were in front of a campsite from the forest. Before, nothing but the mill had been visible; the tents pitched were the color of sand. Small fire pits were scattered throughout the encampment; guns and knives could be found helter-skelter throughout the area; feet stuck out of tents. There was no doubt in either the cyborg's or human's mind: this was a human-run camp. Leon could see from this vantage point a couple of ex-convicts he had known while they had spent their younger years in the joint. He, of course, was still working off his debt.

"Biosweep," Tres said in a low voice; at least the android had enough common sense to do that, "approximately twenty humans and one Methuselah within fifty feet."

Leon's eyes swept the scene. The water wheel was crusted over with old sea life and mold; it probably had not been turned since the place was abandoned thirty years ago by the inhabitants. The mill's building was much taller than most. Rearing into the sky, it was made of dark gray stones. Leon frowned as the color changed abruptly. He leaned forward slightly and caught a reflection of sunlight in his face. The mill served doubly as a lighthouse. The upper floor's walls were made of glass, which was as decrepit and abandoned-looking as the wheel itself. In fact, the place might not have been touched for years if not for the obviously inhabited camp in front of it and a small golden window of light in one of the windows one the second floor of the building.

"There," said Leon, "he's in there." He pointed, without allowing his hand to leave the safety of the shadow, to the window.

"Positive." Tres took out a gun and prepared to shoot.

"No!" exclaimed Leon in a half-whisper. He tackled Tres and pinned him to the ground, though he doubted he would be able to do it again if Tres anticipated him. "Tres, what the hell do you think would happen if we were to shoot at a Methuselah and woke up an entire camp of angry, dangerous men with everything to loose?"

"Processing. Ninety-eight percent chance that we would be chased; sixty-four percent chance we would be apprehended before we would get to safety."

"Right. And Catherine wants us to catch all of them; how are we supposed to do that if they scattered?"

"We c-"

"Rhetorical question, Tres." Leon said, rolling his eyes. "Let's make sure they don't have a way to get away if they do scatter, okay?"

"Affirmative. Most likely location of transportation: two point five miles ahead in a cove."

"Right. Let's get a move on. Damn weather's too hot." Leon muttered, moving forward and pulling the horse, which had already begun nervously tramping the ground beneath their feet at the sight of the camp, with him.

They moved two miles ahead to a rocky outcropping that could only be accessed from the front, which opened to water. It was not a particularly clever place to hide boats, but, then again, the criminals did not expect to be apprehended.

Leon wordlessly handed the reins of his horse to Tres, and walked silently over to the edge of the cave. He crouched down, and with the agility of a cat, leaned over the side of black rocks, first staring at the bright blue water below, then into the dark cave.

There were boats.

And humans.

**A/N: Like I said, I know that I should not start a new series without ending the first, but this one will add to the other series. Besides, I'm only going to write on this story once and awhile. It will not hinder my other story. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi all! I know I should be working on my other story, but I've hit a road block and I have a three day weekend so… continuing with this story!**

**Disclaimer: For lack of anything better to do with the space in between the author's note and the story, I will say this: I do not own Trinity Blood.**

Leon waited with baited breath as he watched three figures move among the three small, fast boats. They were shadowed, but their profiles define. He could shoot them now and be done with it. But of course he, as a priest, would never do that.

Silently, he flipped from the top of the outcropping to hang in the entrance of the cave. From there, he swung and landed on a rock with a soft skid, avoiding the water below. This happened in the span of two seconds.

The first two boats on Leon's right were a small skiffs, barely large enough to hold ten men. From the look of them, they had been in the water for quite awhile; the paint was faded, barnacles clung to the bottoms, and the salt water and dampness of the cove had eaten at the wood planking, corroding it. The boats would not make land, if they were used.

The second was fairly large, a new-shiny, craft with a motor. Despite its new design (Portuguese, if Leon remembered correctly), it would barely hold half the men that were in the camp. It did not matter, however. If Leon knew corrupt Methuselah (and he did), the vampire in charge would choose a select few to accompany him on the boats, and it would only be the very strongest with the best guns or the most pathetic looking to bargain with anyone who captured him. Or both. It was not relevant to the Methuselah which ones would live of die, so long as it was on the living side.

Leon edged his way along the ledge of the cave, crawling on his fingers, knees and feet. The water lapped at his coat, and he made a point of keeping his left side well away from the water, to keep both his reports and gun powder dry. As he did, ripples from something disturbed the small waves from the bobbing boats. He looked down.

And almost retched.

There, just beneath the surface of the water, was the bloated face of a person… or what was left of him. His corpse was horribly disfigured with cuts and swollen from hours in the salt water. The killing blow had been to the chest, where something hit the now-missing heart. Leon was not sure if the killer had ripped it out or fish had found an entrance and had eaten the organ.

Steeling himself against any more surprises, Leon moved forward, drawing almost level with the first boat. As one of the men walked from bow to stern and back again, Leon measured his timing. It took the man about a minute to walk the small boast from back to front. As his back turned to Leon, he chanced a look up. The other two men were sitting in the other small boat, playing a game of cards. If he listened, Leon could hear them betting their belts and rations.

Leon mentally cursed. Any movement, at least at this end of the book, would be seen by the other two, who were no doubt carrying guns. So, forward it was, then. Quickly, he wriggled out of his coat and set it down onto the ledge, sliding fully into the water. The man did not notice.

As he began to once again walk from bow to stern, Leon crawled-swam next to him. As they drew level and passed the cabin, Leon hopped with practiced grace onto the boat and drew into the shadows.

The man turned around and began walking again. He drew level with the cabin, and a fraction of a second later, his entire body was concealed behind it from the other men. He never stood a chance.

Silently, Leon reached out and caught the man around his neck, crushing his right forearm to the man's throat. Before the man had a chance to being flailing, Leon's free arm grabbed one of the man's arms and twisted until he heard a satisfying pop. He let go and did the same to other one; both arms hung limply at the man's sides as he kicked weakly, his body slowing down for lack of air. A less than a half minute later, he was barely moving at all. Leon set him down and felt his pulse. Still alive, just unconscious.

Meanwhile, the other men seemed to have noticed a change in their surroundings. It took them a moment more than any trained AX agent, but still a moment later, they were calling out to their comrade.

"Nick? Eh, Nick?"

Leon stood stock still as there was an irregular movement from one side of the boat. The men (both of them, by the way the boat had tipped) were on the vessel. He heard them calling out to 'Nick'.

"Eh! You better not be stuffing your face with rations again! This time we'll tip you over the boat fer real, jus' like Bobby!"

Leon clenched his fists, hoping to be able to just knock them out, but ready at the same time to draw his gun. Two sets of footfalls could be heard coming towards him quickly. As the first man's greasy face came around the corner, Leon's fist shot out. The man staggered backwards, and Leon was sure he was done for the day. He made short work of the other.

Leon leaned down to begin tying up the man, he heard a click. Things seemed to move in slow motion as he turned. The first man was holding an old-fashioned gun, like that of the days before Armageddon. Leon, knowing he would never be able to move fast enough, squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the pain.

A blast sounded.

Leon cried out in pain and opened his eyes as his blood squirted into the air, to land only a few seconds later to the deck.

The man fell to the ground.

Realizing he was not dead, but in excruciating pain, Leon cracked open an eye.

The familiar (and suddenly very welcome) silhouette of Tres met him. Tres walked from the opening quickly, and over to Leon. Leon looked down at himself, trying to pinpoint the place it was coming from. Within seconds, he found it.

Three inches below the knee.

Cursing, Leon pulled out a dagger. With expert skill he learned in his years in the military he dug out the bullet, making the wound only slightly worse, and let it fall to the ground. He ripped a long strip of cloth from his priest's habit and tied it around the wound to stop the bleeding and prevent sand from getting in it. He still had work to do.

"Father Leon, status report."

"Ah…" Leon glanced around him, "you killed one of them, I got the other two out cold. I'm all right." He grunted, lifting himself up.

"Health report, Father Leon."

"I'm fine, Tres," Leon said shortly.

"Positive."

As Tres began to walk towards the opening of the cove, Leon moved to follow him. With a hiss of pain, Leon fell onto one knee. He held the knee to his body for a moment, and then forced himself up. He still had work to do.

**A/N: Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yeah… why did I put this here?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Trinity Blood; you are only looking her because you think I'm making an interesting, smart-ass remark.**

"Father Leon, transportation has been procured and is scheduled to arrive at seventeen hundred hours" Tres said stoically as he tucked his guns into their holsters and his hip.

"Got it," Leon replied, raising an uninterested hand from where his arm had rested on his knee. He did not want to get up, and his leg burned like hellfire.

"Twenty-eight unconscious men and one unconscious Methusaleah accounted for. I will retrieve the men from the cave approximately two miles away."

"You do that." Leon said distractedly. His head was pounding in unison with the wound, and he could still see the injury was bleeding.

"Father Leon, you are distracted. Status report."

"Tres, go do your job," Leon growled warningly.

Tres paused a moment. Leon was not sure if the android had malfunctioned or was actually worried about him; finally Tres said, "Affirmative."

As his friend moved away and was hidden by the jungle's fringe, Leon rolled up his pant leg. Before, he had thought that the wound was three inches below the knee, but this was a wound that he had received earlier, from one of the men on the boats. He could not see the gun wound very well, as the entry was in the back, but from what he could tell, the wound was deep, and it might have nicked a bone.

"Damn," Leon said, angry. This, not helping his frustration was added to by three more 'damns'. Which were soon added to when they failed to help.



"Father Leon, I am going to deliver my report to Cardinal Catherina," Tres said.

"Yeah, I'm gonna stop by the infirmary." Leon said, waving a hand.

Back in the Vatican, he felt safe enough that if he went to the infamy, he would not have thousands of doctors flying around him, pumping him drugs for a dozen different things he could handle on his own. Nope, just friendly, serious, Sister Maude.

He marched to the infirmary that was reserved specifically for AX members and Inquisition officers, limping. He entered and his nose filled with the sterile scent of medical supplies and medicines. The infirmary was only one story tall, and narrow. Beyond the large oaken doors, there were five beds on either side of the tiled room, and three large windows that were parallel to each other. In the back, there was Sister Maude's office and pharmacy. Everything, from the curtains to the walls to the beds, was blindingly white.

Leon nodded to Sister Paula as he entered. She was sitting in a small plastic chair and clutching her leggings tightly. She had cancer, and they were not sure how far it had spread. Or if anything could be done.

Leon limped slightly to Sister Maude's office door. He knocked twice before it was swung open by a short, old woman with nearly purple hair. Old Sister Maude fiddled with her spectacles for a moment before perching them on a pug nose.

Her eyes magnified to laughable degrees, Sister Maude blinked twice at Leon before nodding her head, as if expecting him, "Ah yes. An Ax kid, eh?" Leon bristled slightly at being called 'kid', but the old sister continued, "Don't get much of you types anymore, do we? Not since the events that crowned the young queen."

"Queen Esther has done a great job with making peace between us and the vampires," Leon replied.

"Hmm… oh yes. I wish I had been able to talk to her more while she was here." Sister Maude sighed and shrugged, "Oh well, I have to help Sister Paula over there, so I'll just call Ellen to help you. Ellen? Ellen! Hurry up, young girl."

Ellen, a young pretty nun with a nice demeanor, stepped out of the office, smiling broadly over a stack of papers. "Yes, Sister Maude."

"Attend the man, I've got to set up Sister Paula," Maude said stiffly. A mischievous glint entered the old nun's cloudy eyes. "And don't you two forget God's eyes are everywhere!"

Poor Sister Ellen blushed bright red. Leon, the pain in his leg distracting him as hot waves emanated from it, hobbled over to a bed without a perverted response. He called out to Sister Ellen that she would need a stool and rolled up his pant leg.

Sister Ellen set the stool down and Leon straightened his leg, gasping against the pain as he straightened his muscle completely for the first time in over eight hours. He pointed to the cloth that bound his wound and Sister Ellen's gentle finger untied it. Leon closed his eyes, waiting for the sting of one of the anti-infection sprays or creams that she had brought over. Instead, he felt a sharp pain one moment, and then a movement inside his leg.

"Mr… Mr. Leon?" Ellen began timidly.

Leon cracked open an eye in response.

Ellen looked apprehensive and was pale. The white stool was already stained with blood from the wound and he could see small shards of black metal. "I'm sorry to say this, but the wound you received was from an old gun, right?" Leon nodded his head. Ellen cast her eyes on the wound as she reported, "The gun was of a style that was ineffective, using gunpowder, which hasn't been used in guns since before Armageddon. Changes were made to it and the bullets, so both the blast and the bullet itself were affected." Ellen lifted her eyes and said slowly, "The excess powder has damaged the tissue in your leg, slowing your healing process." Ellen bit her lip before continuing, "The bullet also shattered on impact. I'm not sure, but I think that there are at least two shards still within your leg."

Leon could feel the blood drain from his face. He knew that he could die from a bullet wound, but he had always assumed that getting shot would either result in death or a wound, and a wound could be taken care of. Fragments of bullets didn't _stay _in legs these days. No, these days the weapons were far more advanced. One shot you're hit and you're down, wounded or otherwise. It was not even that hard to get a good weapon!

_Damned vampire had to skimp out to save himself some cash!_

Leon faded back in as Ellen continued to heal his leg and talk at the same time, "… take out most of it, but there is still a tiny shard in there that even my most advanced tools won't be able to reach." Ellen stared at him, trying to get her point across, "You'll have to stay off of it for at least a day, to get some of the pain to go away. I'll be giving you some pain killers, but the most important thing is that you not get your leg injured before we can have a more experienced doctor from Albion come in and look at it."

Leon nodded distractedly, still dealing with the ramifications of what had happened to him. He was given a small green bottle of pills and sent on his way.

It was only once he was back in his rooms did he remember that the Pope's annual ball was in two days, and he was called to duty to protect the Pope and his siblings.

"Damn it!"

**A/N: Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Well glad you all liked the last chapter; on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own. Probably won't.**

"Father Leon, must you grind your teeth so loudly?"

Leon's attention was diverted from the pain in his leg to Cardinal Catherina; he blinked before realizing what she meant. "Sorry, Cardinal," he apologized distractedly.

"Really, Father what is the matter?" Catherina asked, far more interested in her agent than in the goings on around her. She had only really come to show respect and support for her brother, Pope Alessandro.

Leon hesitated. He had told no one of his injury and Tres, after him repeating several times that he was fine, had reported it a healing injury. There really was no problem thus far; Ellen came to him everyday to check on the wound, occasionally drawing pus to stop infection. The only real problem with the wound was the damned sharp pain that constantly radiated from it.

"Just a flesh wound," he muttered before looking off into another direction.

"A flesh wound?" The Cardinal repeated skeptically.

Leon mentally winced. He had never before shown any type of pain around the Cardinal; around anyone, for that matter. For him to admit that he was in pain was enough to put anyone on the alert. He had to think fast.

"Yeah… Sister Ellen thought a cut I have might have gotten infected, so she put some of this blasted stinging stuff onto it. Stings like the devil."

The Cardinal rolled her eyes, "Don't be such a baby."

"A baby?" Leon repeated indignantly.

Cardinal Kate was already moving away, towards a group of ambassadors from the Empire. Leon growled at the pain. He could feel a bit of sweat begin to bead at the nape of his neck. Mentally he shook himself.

_Just get through it. _He told himself.

Out of the corner of his eye, Leon noticed something. It was a movement, and though many people were moving about, this movement was odd, singled out as if it was different than the others. He turned his head, taking in the red and gold decorum and the people moving about. He saw the movement again, a shadow through the crowd. Something in him unsettled.

"Yo, Tres," he called. The android walked to him. He whispered, "Cover for me, I think I saw something."

"Positive." Tres responded automatically.

Leon followed his instincts, sometimes shoving rudely past people. His worry grew, forming a tightening knot in his stomach. He felt as if he was running against a meter.

Soon, the noise of the room picked up, and Leon heard a woman's voice call out to him. He spun about to see Esther, looking regal in her Queen's garb. She looked at him worriedly.

"Father Leon, have you seen Pope Alessandro?"

Leon felt as if someone had dealt him a blow to the stomach. With growing certainty, he knew that it was the Pope he was looking for. And that there was something very unwelcome here.

He rushed through the crowd, pausing only to tell an Inquisition to quietly raise the alarm. The pain in his leg was forgotten, or otherwise very deeply suppressed. He followed whatever it was that he was following into the hallway. Mentally he groaned. This must have been the only hallway that was accessible from the other room that was not lit by a thousand candles and lights. Instead, he had star and moon light from the many windows.

Leon's steps echoed oddly in his ears as he stepped slowly down the hall. The hair on the back of his neck stood up straight. He strained his senses for a hint of the enemy he was sure was nearby.

When he was close to the center of the room, Leon felt eyes on him. He stood stock-still, waiting for a betraying noise or shadow. He refused to move before he knew where the enemy was because he knew it could show panic. He could not afford to show weakness.

Finally, he heard it. A muffled sound, the beginning of the word 'help'. He whirled around, pulling out both of his guns. An emaciated vampire stared back at him, its eyes white and its fangs bared. The Methuselah clutched the Pope to its chest. It was showing signs of being legally insane, which meant he could kill it without any legal problem.

The question was how to do that without killing the Pope?

He raised his gun and shot at the creature, hoping to hit its spine. The idiotic thing curled in upon itself. It was giving Leon an even better shot, as well as protecting the Pope. Unless…

The blood drained from Leon's face.

The thing was intending to bite the Pope in front of him.

Leon cursed and took a shot, careful of his aim. The vampire hissed and bared its teeth. It dropped to the ground in front of Leon, who by all accounts should have been dead by the way his heart was beating, breathing heavily and snarling. It released the Pope, who scrambled back whimpering piteously.

Leon crouched, ready to strike at any moment. The vampire was still. Leon moved closer and attempted at reasoning with him.

"Okay buddy, I think we both know you're going down here. The slammer isn't all that bad, believe me, I've been in it."

Still, the vampire was still and silent. Leon drew closer to him, giving up talking for showing. His gun clicked distinctly as he readied it. When the vampire spoke, it was like a shock to Leon.

The creature looked to ceiling, as if beckoning the heavens. "I wasn't always like this; not always this hungry," he said, his voice rough and grating on Leon's ears. "I had a wife, and a little girl. She had blonde hair."

Leon wondered briefly if this was some ploy to get him to let his guard down. But vampires this far into the madness could not think that well. Leon saw tears running down the vampire's face, mixing with the blood of those he had already bitten that night.

"But… when he killed them, I felt myself slipping. But I didn't mind it, the slipping." He faced Leon and looked him in the eye for the first time that night. His pupil was barely discernable. "Until I got hungry. I liked it till I got hungry." He buried his heads in his hands, pulling at his hair, tears falling to the ground, a roar of agony and anger ripping out of his throat.

As he quieted, Leon stepped forward again, gun still at the ready. "Okay buddy. We can help you; we got medicine to fix that."

The vampire's head snapped up. A small trill of fear went through Leon's body. The vampire's pupil was very nearly gone now, and his lips were pulled back into a snarl.

"I'm still hungry."

And then it lunged.

**A/N: Yay, another chapter is up! Review!**

**Little side note; I'm doing a personal story on deviantart, under the name 'elpmip'. It's called 'Fallon's Fight'. Here's the description:**

**Men have attacked the Fortress of Stars. After a night of terror and confusion, only a woman, Fallon, and her daughter escape the massacre. Alone and afraid, they flee to the Fortress of Stone.  
Now, Fallon must try to become a part of the Fortress' daily life, but the residents are scornful of both her and her daughter. At the same time, Fallon must wrestle with her depression from her husband's and her family's death. With no respite from either, Fallon slowly begins to question her faith and her sanity.**

**So, if anyone wants to look at them, some keywords are: 'fallon', 'lilth', 'hope', 'love', 'sanity', 'insanity' and 'warrior'. You might have to put almost all these words in to find it, sorry. **


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